


Them Apples (the whole orchard remix)

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Apples, F/M, Farmer's Market, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:44:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Maria sees someone she didn't quite expect on her day off.





	Them Apples (the whole orchard remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Them Apples](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3128624) by [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan). 
  * In response to a prompt by [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan) in the [remixrevivalmadness2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixrevivalmadness2018) collection. 



> Remix of tielan's "Them Apples" for Remix Madness 2018. Your Maria/Steve works thrill me, every time <3\. I also had no idea I had so many opinions about apples until I started researching, and of course hardly any of them made it into the final cut.

_The_ Captain America, Steve Rogers, gets pulled out of the ice with no fanfare and no public knowledge.

SHIELD HQ, on the other hand, knows everything.

It seems every department is flung into action, and every mind set to work on all the things having a supersoldier can do for them, what it'll mean for modern-day politics and public perception of the military, and on, and on. A hundred scrapped projects revived along with him, a hundred new strategies and operations appearing.

But in amidst all the excitement, planning and hypothesizing, no one seems to remember he's a real person under all that legend.

"No. I'm not interested."

He says it a thousand times, a thousand ways, and he's startlingly calm about it.

Maria hides a smile behind her hand after probably the eighth time Director Fury has a phone call with Rogers that ends in the Director's head on the desk.

"He wants nothing to do with SHIELD, nothing to do with anything."

"Can't say I blame him, after all he's been through," Maria says, with a shrug. She catches the look on Fury's face, the narrowing of the eye and the tightening of the mouth. "Sir."

After a long pause, Fury sighs. "You're right."

She straightens a stack of briefings on the corner of his desk and adds another on top. "So you're going to let him walk away?"

"For the time being. Something will come up, and he'll find his way back," Fury says, already moving on to the next task. "Anything else that's not your business you want to ask about?"

Maria can feel her smile slip dangerously close to being a smirk as she moves to leave the office. "No sir."

"Good."

* * *

Maria's been so busy on the twenty-third level with Project Arcturus that she hasn't seen real sunlight in almost three weeks.

Director Fury stops by the lab where she's watching her team run through a simulation. He waits until their finished and reworking the numbers at their station before he speaks. "Forty-eight hours out of the building, Hill, and if I see you…"

He wouldn't see her, if she chose to stay and keep working, but he's right; it's probably time for a little break.

After a hot shower, a long rest, and a bucket of wonton soup from the bodega by her apartment, Maria's ready to stretch her legs a little. As luck would have it, the seasonal market is on the street two blocks up from her apartment. In the spring and fall, they move in for a few days every week and some of the vendors bring the most amazing things. She did most of her holiday shopping there last year, and this past spring, she bought incredible alpaca wool socks that've been saving her feet from the chilly lab ever since.

She's about to blow all her spending money in one go on the handmade chocolates, when a bright, unrestrained laugh drew her attention from two tables down.

Maria is, in a word, stunned, to see Captain America chatting to a young couple from behind a towering crate of apples. For one, she hadn't been expecting to see him anywhere ever again. She figured he'd drop off the face of the planet, probably nurse some extreme post-traumatic stress and fade in obscurity. For two, here he is, right down the street from apartment, dressed like a lumberjack and selling baskets of apples like that's a normal thing people do.

For a lot of people, farmers and the like, it must be normal. Maria's not up on _normal_.

"Hi," she says, half wondering if he'll recognize her, half hoping he won't.

The residual laugh fades from his eyes instantly. So he does recognize her. "Hill," he says. Guarded, but not hostile. "I'm sorry, but I told Fury --"

Even when he's irritated, he's polite, she thinks. "I'm just here for apples."

Steve visibly relaxes, releasing his shoulders. There's a hint of a smile again, even if it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, I can help with that."

Maria studies the fruit in front of her, knowing she herself is being studied.

"I didn't think you got a lot of days off to wander in the farmer's market," he says. There's something in the tone, a challenge, maybe.

She glances up and tries to knock him off-balance with her friendliest smile. Whether it works and he's charmed, or it's just a reflex, he smiles back.

"Now and then, between projects," she says. Maria picks up an apple with perfect, smooth skin, it feels heavier in her hand than she thought it would. "What kind is this?"

"Braeburn," Steve tells her. "They're pretty old-fashioned, but they're perfect for eating straight off the tree." As if to prove a point, he swipes it from her hand and takes a bite.

His expression is somewhere between a grin and a smirk when he finally swallows, which is annoying, and more annoying still is the fact that she's not annoyed. She's practically beaming back at him.

"Try," he urges, pushing the bitten apple back into her hands. His hands linger on hers just for an extra second before he pulls away. Maria meets his eyes as she bites into the fruit. It's tart, more so than she was expecting, but the texture is perfect. It grows sweeter in her mouth as she chews it and Steve's looking at her like she's about to announce the winner of a Nobel prize and yeah, it's a good apple, but it's not _that_ good.

"Very good," she tells him. He's still staring. "Is that all you wanted me to say?"

Steve must realize he's staring because he's suddenly studying the cuff of his sleeve. "I'm glad you like it. Take a few, on the house."

"You don't have to do that." Protesting is a lot harder when he's already got half a dozen in a bag and he's scrutinizing a few more.

"Sure I do. You stopped by when you didn't have to, you're not twisting my arm behind my back and bunny-hopping me back to your boss, plus it always pays to get a few more people hooked."

"Would it work? Twisting your arm?"

Steve laughs, that genuine laugh that sounds like sparkles to her ears. "Of course not, but I'm still glad you didn't try."

"I figured, why upset the apple cart?"  
He narrows his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

It's Maria's turn to laugh now and accepts his offering of apples without any more complaints. Steve's fingers rest on her wrist for a little longer than they should again, but he doesn't pull away. Neither does she.

There's a moment of eye contact where neither moves or says a word, until the smile sneaks back onto his face. Maria's face heats up and she has to turn away. She hears a little huff from him, but she doesn't look back at his face to see if he's laughing at her or if it could have been disappointment. She definitely will live a longer, saner life if she doesn't find out.

"Why apples?" Maria asks, hoping the unstated but resounding 'and why not SHIELD?' is enough to snap the tension between them.

Steve just looks pleased that she's taking an interest. He starts telling her about how picky he was with food when he came out of the ice and how much everything has changed. He speaks about apples the with the awe and joy of that Denise in Accounting, talking about her stupid horses.

"I'm glad you've found something you enjoy so much," she says. Maria was aiming for a little flat and cordial, but it came out sounding downright sincere.

"Thank you," Steve says, equally sincere. Maria's ready to shoot every single butterfly in her stomach. She still can't look up and meet his eyes, staring instead, at a picture perfect pyramid of apples.

"Come by sometime. I can show you around the orchard. I think you'll really… well, not like it. You'll be very bored, probably, but I'd still like to show you." A business card floats into her line of sight, complete with a tacky logo and an ungodly apple pun.

"I will," she says, mouth and butterflies synchronized in their betrayal of what her mind wanted to say, which was "ew, no," or maybe "let's just kiss already." Maria makes a hasty retreat back up the street to the safety of her apartment before she notices Steve's written his phone number on the back of the card.

He definitely wasn't the obedient super soldier that SHIELD had been counting on, but he's… certainly something. Maria lets everything that's just happened rattle around in her mind before she tries to process it as she lays her apples in the fruit bowl.

There's a knock on the apartment door. It's Steve standing there, looking vaguely windswept like he ran after her, but he's not even slightly out of breath.

"I gave you some apples," he says.

His expression gives nothing away. She has no idea what he means.

"Did you want me to pay for them?" she ventures.

"No, I gave them to you. I'm saying I didn't want to give you apples, you know?" There's a narrowing of his eyes, a sharp little smile. Maria has an inkling as to what he's ineffectively not saying, but she won't jump to conclusions.

"You can have them back?" she tries instead.

Steve kisses her and she lets it happen. He tastes, not surprisingly, like apples.


End file.
